Can't Turn Back Time
by Telturwen
Summary: As familiar as a smoke, but as fast as a speeding bullet. Life was good for Jack Mercer. He had a family, he had a girl, he had a future. What the hell happened? Well, it started with the girl...
1. Deciphering Code

**A/N:** I would like to point out that this is my first Four Brothers fic, so tell me how it turns out. I'd love some feedback, but please be gentle. _Update:_ This version is the newest, updated on 3/12/08. It has been modified from the original.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Four Brothers. Darn it.

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** Can't Turn Back Time**

_Deciphering Code_

Elisa felt a hand slap the lower portion of her body and turned around in time to see Bobby's retreating form. He looked back and winked at her, sending her his signature grin. She shook her head and turned back around, muttering, "Bobby, if you ever try that again, I promise no mercy."

Bobby Mercer had always been the firecracker, the guy everyone wanted to know but no one wanted to be around. He had an explosive temper and the ability to do real damage to anyone when he had the motivation. In other words, to be on Bobby's bad side was to be dead.

Elisa was happy to be on the receiving end of teasing, and not beatings. She'd known him for a little over two years, just like the rest of the pack she came to know as the Mercer Boys, and was proud to say that she was no longer their main target for verbal abuse. But being the runner up was nothing to grin at either.

"Cracker Jack!" Angel yelled from the stairs, sending an intense look her way. "Get your skinny white ass down here and get this girl outta the house."

She smiled and moved closer to the stairs, bringing an elbow up to the railing in a stance that could have been taken as a provocative gesture, but she chose to think of it more as _leaning_.

"You know you've missed me," Elisa said in a sweet voice.

"Like hell I did." It was meant to be rough, but the smile betrayed him. She hugged him and let him pass as she went into the kitchen. Jeremiah sat at the table, digging into a bowl of Corn Flakes when he looked up to see who had entered. Spoon in mouth, he got up and made his way around the table to give her a hug.

"Get that out of your mouth before you start hugging me, Jerry. Nearly poked my eye out."

He chuckled and sat down on the table.

Jerry had that pleasant air around him; he was always smiling and laughing, joking around whenever he had the chance to crack a joke. He was the foil of his little brother, because though Angel seemed to have the same appeal about him when he wanted to show it, Jerry could never show the dangerous, tough exterior that Angel did.

"Long time, no see," he said, dunking his spoon into the bowl of cereal. "What've you been up to?"

"This, that and the other thing."

Before she could continue, she heard laughing from the entryway. Peeking around the corner, she saw Jack in his boxers on the last stair; Angel and Bobby were bending over, cracking up about something. Most likely they were poking fun at the youngest Mercer, because on a Saturday morning, what else was there to do? He was trying to push them over and eventually managed to tackle Bobby to the ground. They started wrestling, but Angel stayed where he was, bent over and laughing hysterically.

"Bobby! Jack! What the hell—"

Angel quickly got out of the way as they started rolling around on the floor, trying to press their forearms against each others wind pipes. He shuffled over to the kitchen door.

"El, did you really do Jackie last night?"

Elisa shoved his shoulder as he burst out laughing at her mixed expression of shock and annoyance. She heard Bobby's muffled voice as he was in a tight headlock under Jack's arm.

"I didn't even hear you two, sweetheart."

This was incentive for Jack to attempt to punch his brother in the stomach, but Bobby rolled over him and got on top, straddling his chest about to punch him in the face. El shoved him off with as much force as her drained, feminine body allowed, but he fell to the floor beside Jack. Probably out of pity, since her muscles weren't enough to knock him over.

"That's 'cuz we were in the laundry room, you asshole."

"No shit, Jackie-o!"

"Damn it, boy, that's my spot!"

Jack grinned upside down at Angel, saying, "Not anymore."

The door opened and Evelyn walked in with her baby blue overcoat and black suitcase. They all greeted her with a "Hey, Ma" as she set down the case next to the coat hanger and closed the door behind her. Upon seeing Bobby and Jack on the floor, a frown formed on her face.

"Get off that floor," she said sternly. "Bobby, you know better. Jackie, I _just _bought you those. It's filthy down there."

Jack jumped up and offered a hand to help Bobby up as well. When she saw they were upright, Evelyn glanced to her right to find the two other delinquents.

"Elisa, so nice to see you, dear."

As she replied, "Same to you, Evelyn," out of the corner of her eye she saw Bobby push Jack's shoulder so he fell off balance. _Typical_. "I just dropped by to say hello, but I saw how dirty this place got since you left on your trip. Your boys are the biggest slobs I've ever seen. I'm glad you're back so you can toughen them up and shove those brooms in their hands."

"I can't get them to clean. It's like teaching an ostrich to fly with these boys."

"Ma, men ain't supposed to clean."

"That's just an excuse for being too lazy."

She walked past Angel and kissed his forehead, even though he had to bend down for her to do it, moving on through the kitchen doors.

Elisa poked her head into the next room, scouting for potential privacy, then walked towards Jack, grabbed the elastic band on his boxers and dragged him into the sitting room. When Bobby and Angel tried to follow, leering, she turned and shot them a death glare. It put them a few strides back and she smiled, satisfied.

"Jackie, can you get out of the house today?"

He searched her face for a moment and then grinned.

"Yeah, sure. I'll tell Ma I have practice."

"Good." Elisa smiled and kissed the side of his mouth slowly, drawing it out. "I have something I wanna show you at my place."

Jack hesitated before saying, "Didn't you say your dad was out of town on business this weekend?"

She slid her hands down his belly until they reached fabric and she moved closer into him.

"I might have said something like that…"

Just as they moved in to kiss, they heard footsteps coming from the entryway and they pushed apart. They stood, staring longingly at one another, as Evelyn stepped into the room. She took no notice of them as she collected a few wrappers and plastic cups on the coffee table and when she finally looked up, Jack was leaning against the wall and Elisa against the TV stand.

"Are you staying for breakfast, Elisa?" she asked easily. "I'm making French toast and eggs."

"Actually, Evie, I was just leaving, but thanks for the offer."

"Any time," she said softly, gathering up a few used napkins in her arms to bring to a nearby waste basket. "Jackie, put some clothes on. I'm sure Elisa doesn't want to see you like that."

They both nearly burst out laughing, but somehow held it back by keeping their mouths closed and their eyes shut tight for a moment to collected themselves.

"Alright, Ma."

Evelyn didn't seem to notice as she finished cleaning off the table and moved back into the entry hall.

"I'll see _you_ later," whispered Elisa, moving close again and touching her lips to his. Jack almost followed her out of the room when she left, but stopped himself before his brothers saw him acting like a stray puppy. He put both hands on top of his head, rubbing his fingers across his scalp, smiling to himself.

Jeremiah walked into the room, oblivious, and grabbed the remote off the table. He slapped his little brother's bare chest which made him blink. He said, "What's up, Jack? Look like you just got laid or something." When Jack didn't answer, but the remnants of the smile still lingered on his face, Jerry let out a whooping sound. "You fucking with me?"

Jack just looked down at him and showed his teeth as the side of his mouth raised slightly. It only took as long for Jerry to stand up and get Jack in a headlock, rustling up his hair into a mess.

"Who was it?"

"None of your damn business," said Jack, trying to escape his brother's arm.

"It was El, wasn't it? Man, I knew she was over here way too early. When Mom finds out…"

When Jerry's muscles had relaxed a bit, Jack pushed his arm away and jumped out of reach.

"She's not gonna find out."

"Jackie, you're forgetting one thing," he said, slouching back into his chair and shrugging. "She's gonna find out."

Holding up the remote in his hand, Jack threw it at Jerry and started walking to the staircase. "Tell her I have band practice at twelve."

As Jeremiah heard the stairs creek under weight, he muttered, "Biggest load of shit I heard all week."


	2. The Problem With Love

**A/N:** _Update:_ Modified 3/12/08 from the original version. Enjoy this one, I think it's better.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, I still don't own Four Brothers. That would be sweet though. 

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**Can't Turn Back Time**

_The Problem with Love _

Jack was sitting on his bed, legs spread apart, the grin on his lips spelling trouble. Elisa moved onto the mattress, sliding in between his thighs. He came forward to meet her and they bumped noses, which caused her to laugh. They breathed softly on each other's faces, teasing each other for awhile. Finally, they switched from face-to-face to mouth-to-mouth. At this for an entire minute, Jack started to glide his hands along her stomach and under her t-shirt. Just as he was about to lift up—

"Damn it, Jack!" They looked up to see Bobby in the doorway, gazing down at the spectacle they'd made. Elisa slid out of reach, Jack's eyebrows coming together in annoyance as his hands slid off her skin in turn. "You two've been all over each other. You ever gonna call it quits?"

"I'm good with this, actually," said Jack, glaring at Bobby.

"Mom only went out to get groceries. She'll be back in five minutes," he said, nodding towards the window. "'Course you won't need that long, will you, Jackie?"

"Fuck you, Bobby."

"You're confusing us," he said, pointing to Elisa. "_El_ is your girlfriend."

She rolled over Jack's leg and onto the bed beside him, sighing from the aggravation of being interrupted. She stared at the ceiling and waited for the two brothers to duke it out. It wasn't the twenty-fourth time she'd been stuck in the middle of a Mercer Boy quarrel. In fact, it was fast becoming habit. She didn't know if she could last a day without a good dose of their bickering. Once, she had had to endure an entire five minutes of yelling over what television show to put on. The mere memory of it made her roll her eyes.

When Bobby finally submitted and left the room with the jacket he had originally come for, they were back in position. Elisa pulled Jack's shirt over his head and threw it on the ground, allowing him to perform the same action on her. She wrapped her arms around his chest and lifted herself up to place her mouth at an equal height to his.

"Hey, look at that!" Bobby shouted from the stairs. "Mom's home!"

"You've gotta be shitting me!" he said in a muffled voice as Elisa pulled away, unknowingly bringing his lower lip with her.

They both jumped off the bed to collect the clothes they had already shed and Elisa made her way quickly out of Jack's room.

- - -

He sniffed the air as a gust of wind hit his face with the force of icicles. He could smell the burning rubber of the tires on the car that had just sped down the street. Early December was just beginning the winter season, but having lived in this kind of weather his whole life—for all he knew—Jack was almost immune to the cold. He wore jeans, ripped at the knees, a long-sleeved shirt and a black zip-up sweatshirt. And he wasn't even shivering.

The youngest Mercer had been looking for something special to give to his girlfriend, for lack of a better term, for a couple weeks. After school, he walked down to the corner shops where they sold antique jewelry cheap. But Jack didn't plan on getting Elisa anything cheap. She deserved more than gaudy hoop earrings or something a grandmother could wear and actually think made her look nice. Jack was eyeing the gold bracelet in the glass case of Noah Cadence's shop.

It was perfect for her. Being in a glass case, inside a box and wrapped up wouldn't make it an easy steal, but the thought of Elisa's eyes lighting up when she saw it made him forget about the trouble he'd have to go through to get it.

"Hey, Noah," said Jack as he stepped through the door. Cadence picked up his head and nodded lazily at his customer. He was a listless old man, ready to drop dead at any moment. And he probably would, too, once he realized what was going on.

Jack didn't go straight for the bracelet. Despite what his brothers said, he had learned a thing or two about finesse from them. He was just lucky he'd ignored Bobby's lessons or he'd have ended up aiming a pistol at Cadence's kneecaps or some shit. He moseyed around for awhile, fingering some cheaper necklaces to make a point of not knowing exactly what he wanted, or if he wanted anything at all. When he reached the glass, Cadense's head perked up suspiciously.

"What're you looking over here for?" he spat from behind the counter, giving Jack a don't-push-it-boy glare. "You know you don't got the money for any of that."

"Settle down, Noah," Jack said easily, moving his fingers slowly across the glass. "Hey, that's a nice one."

"Fourteen karats," was Cadense's only warning.

"I'm saving up," he said reassuringly, a half-smirk on his face. "How much are you selling it for?"

"Don't tease yourself, kid."

"Let me see it," he persisted, straight-faced.

"You can see it just fine from there. That's why I got these clear cases."

Jack started to see that it would take a little more than just pushiness to get the bracelet out of the box, so he thought to himself for a minute. He smirked inwardly at the genius of it when he said, "Bet it's not even real gold."

Struck a nerve. The one thing Cadense got more upset about than people stealing from him was when someone called him a liar. That just made it _too_ easy to piss him off. Jackie wasn't stupid, he just needed to hook the fish and he couldn't do that without some bait.

Noah stood up in a haughty way, walked towards the case and bent down. Setting the bracelet on the counter in front of Jack, he watched his customer carefully, not allowing his eyes to wander anywhere out of sight of the gold. Jack, picked it up and placed it in the center of his palm. He moved his hand up and down as if weighing it, allowing his mouth to ease into a slight frown.

Noah smiled and stared him straight in the eye. "Well?" he asked, expectantly.

Jack set the bracelet down on the counter and admitted, "Yeah, alright. It's not a piece of shit." Pointing to the opposite wall as he walked to the door, he said, "I'll probably be back for the locket."

The bell rang on the door as Jack stepped across the threshold. He grinned when he reached the curb. Putting both hands in his pockets, his fingers curled around the cold, circular form of the bracelet.

- - -

"You didn't!" Elisa screamed happily. "Where did you get this from? It's gorgeous!"

Jack's smile could have stretched a mile wide as she hugged him tightly. But as the strength of the hug lessened, the width of the smile decreased.

"Wait a sec," Elisa said, pulling away from him with concern etching her face. "Jackie, where did you get this?"

"Band had a gig last Friday," he explained, somewhat lamely. He could have told her anything, and there were some very convincing arguments available to him that she would have bought. He must not have thought it through all the way, or else that non-existent gig he was talking about would have been a little more believable.

"That's bullshit," she replied frankly, not in the mood to uncover anything by way of cryptic messages or sideways stares. "You would have asked me to come."

"You hate our music. Why the hell would I ask you to come?"

So she didn't enjoy 'rocking out' to the tunes he jammed to. Elisa was a little hurt by the blunt insult that he thought support wasn't a good enough reason for her to see him play. She drew in a small breath between her teeth and said, "Don't lie to me. Where did you get this?"

Looping a finger through a strand of her fallen hair, he tried to look innocent, but she pushed his hand away.

"Did you steal it, Jack?"

His stare was piercingly gentle, something he never was with her—so tender it hurt just to look at him. She felt like an asshole digging up a coffin just to pocket a dead man's spare change. No matter how much it pained her to look at him, she gazed defiantly back into his eyes.

With an amount of vulnerability she had never witnessed from him before, he said, "Can't you just…put it on?"

"Jack," she sighed despairingly. "You have to take it back. What if you get caught? They have cameras and God knows what else in those shops, especially the ones that sell this kind of fancy shit. When they find out it's gone, you're a dead man! Did you even think—"

"I did it for you, El," Jack said quietly, looking her straight in the eye. "I_ wasn't_ thinking. I can never think when I'm around you. I'm going on impulse. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. I think—I mean, I'm pretty sure—I'm in love with you."

After a few silent minutes passed, she looked down at the bracelet clenched in her fist and then back up at her him. Jack watched as she slipped it onto her wrist and laid her hand on his waist. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek and went wordlessly out of the Mercer house, a heated battle of right versus wrong still going on in her head.


	3. The Whole Truth

**A/N:** Took long enough, right? Well, I did a couple changes and re-uploaded them so that they're better grammatically. I also renamed the shop keeper because—Yerser, Mercer. Yeah, I just realized that. Now his name is Noah Cadence. And yes, it is relevant to later. I hope you enjoy this long over-due chapter. I've dedicated it to my friend Sarah since she finally watched Four Brothers (and is now in love) and was the one who urged me to continue the story. Read her fic Landslide if you have time! By the way, please remember to review! Reviews are amazing, whether they're one word or eighty-seven!** Warning:** This chapter has a lot more words than the other two, or did before I modified them.

**Disclaimer:** Still not owning of teh brothers.

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** Can't Turn Back Time**

_The Whole Truth  
_

Looking up from the sidewalk, Elisa felt the sweet touch of snowflakes land and melt on her face. Despite the soothing pleasure it gave her, her smile didn't originate there. She had the kind of excitement that made her shiver all over, that made her worry and feel careless at the same time. There wasn't a word for it, or if there was she couldn't think of it. It could be wonderful…and petrifying.

What did love mean, really? Elisa had the feeling that it was something that would come to you—if you were in love, you'd know it. A pang of guilt struck her when Jack has said the words because she hadn't had the courage to say them back. Of course she had loved him in the literal sense, and emotionally she was attached to him at the hip (as well as other places) but it didn't seem like it was enough. She continued to push him out every time he tried to get close that way.

She absently fingered the bracelet on her wrist while she walked. It had hung there the last two days as a constant reminder of commitment, promise. When she realized she was playing with it, she quickly slid it off her wrist and into her pocket, praying no one had seen the hundred dollar trinket her boyfriend had stolen. No matter how much she wanted him to bring it back to Cadence's, she couldn't bare to stand the anguish at her disapproval. There was more than her own condemnation that hid behind those eyes, but she was compelled to keep the focus on herself so that Jack would never have to recount any of his memories. If she caused that pain, she would never forgive herself.

Sliding her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, she crossed the street as the snow started to fall heavily. The hood draped over her head so she wouldn't worry about looking like a wet dog, but she _did_ worry about looking like a gangbanger.

The door opened before she even knocked and Derek moved out of the entryway so she could get into the house. He laughed and brushed the snow off her head.

"Did you join the Capri's, El?" he mocked as she slipped the hood back. "Didn't think you were one for shooting."

"Well, you know, I'm good with a crowbar, but when it comes to pistols, I can't hit jack shit." She gave him a whack upside the head for good measure and struck a girl punch to his side when he tried to grab her ticklish spot.

Following him down the entry hall and stairs to the basement, she noticed the boys were all there. She called them 'the boys' since that made up the majority, and Row and Layla were slutty tomboys anyway. Anyone who said that and wasn't their best friend would have had their ass kicked to the other side of Detroit. It wasn't an insult, though. They had a unique style, and Elisa had managed to model her own off of theirs.

She'd been friends with the boys for awhile. They were like her brothers, and they acted like it too. When her mom had left, they'd been there to support her. In fact, Jack was one of them long before they'd started having sex. They weren't exactly dating yet, but she figured it was safe to say they were in a relationship since neither of them were having sex with anyone else.

She took a quick look around the room and it only took her a second to find him. He was leaning up against the wall, his back facing her, but she'd recognize that ass a mile away. When her eyes shifted upwards, they spotted a cloud of smoke above his head. She glided up to him, squeezing the back of his pants in a way that made him straighten up, but not jump. Once she'd stepped to the side and he put an arm around her shoulder, she gave him an irritated look. The cigarette hung from his mouth as he gazed down at her in a what-did-I-do kind of way.

Snatching the cigarette out of his mouth, she rolled it between her fingers like an expert. "How many times do I have to tell you?" she asked, putting it in her mouth and blowing out a stream of gray smoke. "Smoking is bad for you."

Jackie rolled his eyes. "It's addictive, El. I don't have that kind of willpower."

Elisa shrugged somberly, putting on a pouty face as the cigarette spun between her teeth. She prolonged taking it out of her mouth, savoring the taste of tobacco against her tongue. She faintly wondered why she had quit in the first place when she opened her eyes to a leering Jack. That boy thought her scrubbing the sink was sexy; she shouldn't have been surprised his hormones would kick in now.

Row happened to walk by at that moment and pointedly call, "Whore!" in a high-pitched voice. Everyone turned around and looked at them, the boys grinning. Jack pulled her against his chest, slipping the cigarette out of her mouth and putting it back in his own.

"She's my whore," he said protectively. "Get your own."

- - -

"My dad's gonna kill me if I don't get home by twelve." Elisa curled her arms around Jack's waist, shifting her nails across his skin in a semi-seductive way. He gave her a hard look before gripping her arms and pulling them away from his body. "I'm sorry," she said, annoyed he hadn't even listened to her other offer before pushing her away.

"Why aren't you wearing the bracelet?" he asked slowly, his eyebrows coming together to give her a questioning stare.

_Shit, shit, shit_. Those beautiful, scarred eyes watched her every facial expression, and she was impressed with herself that she kept those to a minimum.

"Jackie, I just took it off when I was walking over here," she said, thinking fast. It was partially true. "I don't want you to get caught."

"But you're okay with me fucking turning myself in," he said, his voice reaching the point where she knew it was far too late to keep the conversation calm and, despite the deepness in his voice that made certain areas warm up, she would put up a fight.

"That's bullshit, I never said that. Don't start putting words in my mouth. I told you to return it, not turn yourself in."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest, a clear sign that he would stand his ground. Elisa shifted her weight and drew her eyebrows together. In an angry tone, he muttered, "Bet you wouldn't even give a shit if I was shipped off to juvie."

Elisa didn't have time to stop herself before she started pummeling his chest with both fists. He grabbed both her wrists to keep her from continuing, but she was hot with fury.

"Are you fucking stupid, Jackie?" she screamed as Derek and Jason pulled her away from him so she would calm down. Jack looked completely blown away. _Good, the bastard._ "I can't believe you would ask me that! Why do you think I keep telling you to stay outta trouble? Not to get mixed up with assholes like your brothers do? You think I'm sayin' this so you can get thrown in jail tomorrow?" She shoved off Jason's hand from her elbow. "I care about you; stop being a bitch about it."

After shoving Derek out of the way, Elisa made her way for the stairs and didn't look behind her to see if anyone was following. She didn't want to talk if they were. She needed to be alone. Why she'd gotten so pissed, she couldn't say. But if anyone got in her way from here to the door they were dead meat.

_If you're in love, you'll know it._

Well, if this was how love felt, Elisa didn't want to have anything to do with it.


	4. Like A Lie

**A/N: **Guys, I need reviews. I'm going through withdrawal...and it's not fun! But seriously, it's not fun to write when you know no one's going to review.So think about it. Do what's right.

**Disclaimer:** Four Brothers, I still don't own them.

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**Can't Turn Back Time****  
**

_Like a Lie_

Hypocrite. She might not realize she was doing it, but there were times when Elisa bugged the hell out of Jack. _You use a gun and it'll only kill you, Jackie. _Two weeks after she'd said that, he'd spotted her in the kitchen learning how to load Bobby's pistol. _Only sluts make out with their boyfriends in public. _She'd ended up groping him across the hall from the teachers lounge the next day. It was one of her more annoying character traits, but he probably wouldn't love her as much if it wasn't part of her. Probably.

Jack pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie to display the impressive muscles that made up his arms. He was getting hot just thinking about her. Well, he couldn't really tell if it was his anger that was making him warm or just the thought of her. He didn't dwell on the subject of his body temperature long enough to discover the actual source.

Elisa had been the last girl he thought he'd end up with. There hadn't been any immediate attraction other than the regular good looks and pretty face. He'd actually been interested and involved with several other girls at the time. But the month Elisa's mom left her and her dad, she was devastated. The guys did what they could to help her through it, but there was something a little more intimate that she needed than just pats on the back and half-hearted reassurances. She'd needed a shoulder to cry on. It just so happened that Jack was the only one in the room when she broke down.

They'd been watching Jimmy Kimmel and drinking a half-empty bottle of Miller Lite when the tears started down her face. He hadn't know what to do, but he assumed holding her against his chest wouldn't have been a terrible idea. Both of them had misinterpreted what the other was doing, though, and it all happened so fast. She pulled away from him, putting her hand on his chest to pull away. When he realized how fast his heart was beating, and that she'd felt it too, something went through both their minds at the same time, like a light switch flicked on after being in the dark for a long time. Eyes don't adjust to that too well, but they hadn't seemed to have a problem with it.

Elisa had always been one of the organized types, the ones that had all their shit together and knew exactly what they were doing. So when she'd told him she didn't know what she was doing, it'd felt good to say, "El, _you_don't have to."

Of course, no matter what kind of feelings he'd had about other girls, once he'd seen her naked, they were out the window. He didn't look at other girls the same as he looked at her and it was almost pathetic how attached he'd gotten to her.

He'd found that out when Elisa had gone to her grandparent's house in Lancing while everything from her mom's desertion blew over. Missing her was like a knife to the gut every day she was gone. He'd drained so much figurative blood, he'd gotten sick over it. But he'd never admit that was the reason and no one had called him on it. Their relationship was a less than common knowledge and he wanted it kept that way. He got mocked enough by his brothers as it was and he didn't need one more thing they could taunt him about.

The discretion hadn't lasted nearly as long as he'd hoped. It was his fault, though, for mouthing off to Bobby when his brothers had been home for Thanksgiving.

"_Morning, Jackie," said Bobby from the bottom of the stairs. "El's over."_

"_Yeah, I know," he muttered into his arm as he brought it up to stifle a yawn._

_Bobby looked thoughtful for a second, gazing into the kitchen, then he nodded his head towards the door, glancing at his little brother. "You think she'd go for an older guy?" It took Jack a couple seconds to understand, but he slammed a hand down on the railing next to where Angel's head had come out from behind the corner of the staircase. Jack couldn't think of anything to say, but he glared at Bobby menacingly._

"_Don't worry about it, Jackie-poo," Angel said, taking a whack at his shoulder. "We know you've got the hots for her."_

"_I better. We're fucking." He said it without even thinking, like some kind of perverse reflex his mouth had. He stood stone-still like a deer caught in the headlights, wanting desperately to sulk back up the stairs, but he knew the conversation was far from over. Then again, he'd been wrong before._

_Bobby and Angel almost fell to the floor laughing so damn much. He wanted to wedge his fists in their stomachs and had almost got to it by the time Elisa had appeared in the doorway, looking slightly amused and less slightly pissed he noticed out of the corner of his eye. He loved that expression on her._

_Before he knew what was going on, he was rolling around with Bobby on the floor. His shoulders were being held firm so he couldn't twist out of his brother's hold, but he managed to push down on Bobby's lower back to make him cave in; he quickly curled out and got his arm around Bobby's neck in a chokehold. _

Fighting them was some kind of release, even if they did let him win every now and then, because all the pent up energy and rage that was lost to his cool resolve had to be taken out somewhere. It just hadn't ever occurred to him that he'd be fighting them to protect his sexual reputation. Elisa wasn't his first but he'd always kept those escapades under the radar, especially from his mother. It was inevitable she'd figure it out, he just hoped it would be _after_he moved out.

Jack sighed when he reached the fork in the street that told him he was at her house. He looked up from his shoes and the sun caught his gaze, holding it for a split second. His arm flew up to shield his view of the sunset as he attempted to blink away the white dots speckling his view. Peering right, through half-closed lids, he spotted the rowhouse sandwiched in between the neighboring buildings.

The horizontal line of residences all took on the same appearance and after seeing them day after day they just sort of blurred together. They were set so close you could climb up the sides of the buildings and reach the roof in a manner of minutes. Every city-living kid found that out eventually, and only one out of six got a broken leg as a result. Jack had been lucky number five.

He walked slowly up to the porch, fiddling around with the handle to the screen door a little before opening it up and stepping inside. Stomping his boots on the welcome mat to dry off some of the snow, he leaned forward to knock.

The door opened quickly to reveal Mr. Byrnes, irritation cleverly masked behind surprise. "Oh. Afternoon, Jack. Didn't see you there. You looking for Lissa?" Jack was barely able to nod before he continued. "She's upstairs in her room. I'm late for a meeting. Can you tell her I'll be back around ten?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, slipping through the doorway and nodding a 'good-bye'.

He walked up the stairs, stopping to admire Elisa's senior picture framed on the wall. The smile on her face was like she'd just made a smart-ass remark to a teacher which he hadn't understood—a half-smirk that challenged him to give her a referral. She knew how to choose her words carefully around authority figures. He sort of envied her for that.

It was easy to sneak into her room without her hearing. Elisa was lying on her bed with her hands covering her eyes. He was a little surprised to hear his voice blaring from her stereo, and now understood why her fingers were massaging her temples. He resented that a little, but it was nice to know she cared enough to at least listen to his music. It had taken him this long to recognize her affection, even after she literally tried to beat it into him yesterday.

He waited until the low-key, instrumental part of the song came on before tapping the Off switch on the stereo and saying, "God damn, who forced you to listen to this shit?"

She jumped a little before flinging her hands off her face and getting up off the bed to stand on the opposite side. Adjusting her torn-up t-shirt, she gasped, "Jesus Christ, Jackie. Where the hell did you come from?"

"The hallway," he said, making his voice an octave lower than before. He loved playing with the volume of his voice, because it made a shiver go down Elisa's spine when it was that deep.

After a moment of awkward silence she said, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Fine," she said after a minute. She twirled a strand of hair in between her fingers and sucked on her lower lip like she always did when she was thinking. "You know, I didn't mean to punch you. I mean, even on accident."

"Shut up, El, you're not the one who needs to apologize." She looked a little shocked, but bit her tongue to keep from saying anything. "I was the one who was being an asshole and not taking anything seriously. I'm gonna return the bracelet. It was probably a stupid idea anyway."

Elisa frowned and then circled her bed, taking four small steps to get to Jack. She slid the bracelet slowly off her wrist and as he held out his hand to take it and his fingertips brushed her skin, she stood on her toes and hooked his mouth with hers. It took her a minute to regain logical thought before she said, "It wasn't stupid. That was the sweetest thing anybody's ever done for me." She smiled and added, "But sometimes being with you's more complicated than fucking marriage."

He grinned at her astonishment when she realized the bracelet was no longer in her hand.

"Thief."

Shrugging whimsically, he told her he had to go and that her dad wouldn't be home until ten o'clock. She glanced at the clock on her dresser, reading 8:02.

"Jackie..." He saw what was going on in her mind; a conflict of whether or not to ask. In the end, she gave into herself. "Are you sure you _have_ to go?"

Without a second thought, he sat down on the bed and laid down like she had been before. "I got some time," he said casually as she tucked herself beside him, burrowing herself in his hoodie and wrapping her arms idly around his chest. They laid like that for an hour, until Elisa fell asleep and so did Jack's arms.

He hadn't wanted to tell her, but he didn't even think he _could_ return the bracelet. He sure as hell didn't want to, and he didn't have a clue how to do it anyway. Pushing it to the back of his mind, he started tapping his fingers against the bedpost to his left in a rhythm that had been playing over and over in his head for the past twenty minutes.

The words came out of his mouth almost as soon as they'd appeared in his mind. Looking down at Elisa ,he smiled and, almost inaudibly, started humming, "_It was __the whitest lie, a simple sin, but I'm still running out of oxygen. One single breath felt like a test. You keep saying life's just around the bend, you keep saying that the world is gonna end_…"


	5. As a Reminder

**A/N:** I'm sorry it took me so long to write this, but brain has not been functioning normally. This chapter is grossly overwritten. I apologize muchly for the amount of words it possesses. I also apologize for the one letter mix-up with Jack's tattoo. I based it around "Spared" because that's what I thought it said at first glance. But after I already had this chapter planned, my friend pointed out in a screencap that it was not "Spared" but "Spares". That was just my carelessness. Plz don't hate me. And if it hasn't been obvious, all paragraphs in italics are flashbacks. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Darn it, I've tried, but I own not of the Four Brothers.

* * *

**Can't Turn Back Time**

_As a Reminder_

Elisa bit her lip, her eyes shifting from Row to Layla feebly. She couldn't decide which tattoo she wanted more. Of course, she could have made an easy compromise by taking the wings with barbed wire wrapped around them, but that would be twice the pain and probably double the cost.

"Can't you just pick for me?" she asked Rosella, giving her best pouty lip which was usually reserved for her father, and sometimes for Jack.

"No, El," Layla cut in decisively, snatching the pencil out of Elisa's mouth. She felt like she always needed something in her mouth, regardless of the incessant amount of teasing it earned her. Layla was determined to put a stop to it because she was sick and tired of lending out her gum. "You've gotta choose. We're just giving you suggestions."

"Some damn good ones," said Rosella proudly, a satisfied look on her face as she studied her drawing again.

Elisa looked down at the sheet of paper where her two best friends had sketched some sample tattoos. Row's idea was angel wings. Her drawing was feathery and elegant, while Layla's shitty excuse for barbed wire could have been mistaken for the squiggly lines of a first grader. Elisa thought of needling a set of coy fish down the side of her rib cage, so that was scribbled in between the two designs.

"I don't even know where I'm putting it yet."

"Well, _that_," said Row, grinning, "is between you and your man."

Elisa had met Rosella when she'd moved up from Chicago. Row had been completely lost in school; the boys interested her far more than the studies. Even though Elisa couldn't tell the difference between a coefficient and a constant, her offer to tutor Row in Algebra was accepted. As payment, Rosella thought it would be fun to hook her up with a few upperclassmen. Fiasco was a good description of the events that took place. "Slut" was what they called her following those events.

Layla was the one to come to her defense by distracting the student body. She devised a witty plan to sneak into the announcer's room at school and shout some inappropriate innuendos into the speaker about a few girls. It brought the attention completely off of Elisa and onto Layla, since her accusations turned out to be true. Lay was an attention whore anyway, so she didn't mind insulted friends yelling at her in the halls and guys she didn't know slapping her on the butt in 'appreciation'.

When all this took place, Elisa really hadn't had any friends in Detroit. Her father's job transfer had caused the family's move down from Sterling when she was fourteen. It took her a while to get used to the violence and crime Detroit was notorious for and having no friends to share her transition with was difficult. She had been the stereotypical new kid, shy and awkward, and Layla had been the only girl at secondary to talk to her. Just by being around Layla, she'd been given the chance to rise above the stereotype, and she made up for the fact that she had been timid in more ways than one.

Though she tried, El could never hope to match up to Rosella, a mocha-colored flirt with so many "potentials" she'd lost count. Denzel and Terry were her current love interests, but she was smart about how she came on to each of them. She knew exactly when to turn off her sensuous vibes without alarming one when the other walked into the room. The only reason she had to worry about that was because they were best friends and spent the majority of their time together. But if anyone could break the bonds of true friendship, it was Rosella Green. How the hell they kept her obvious come-ons to themselves was beyond the guys' comprehension. They were placing bets on who she would finally pick. Elisa had twenty on Terry.

The point was that Rosella was a little slut who enjoyed drawing out invitations to torment her prey. She knew a lot about love, but nothing about _love_.

Layla wasn't much help either. Her first boyfriend had been Jason, her second Max, and her third Derek. All three relationships had lasted a grand total of two months. The breakups had been mutual, as the relationships themselves had been simultaneous. During the Week of Despair following her split with Derek, she had vowed never to be in a relationship again. She was currently banging Jason, on of her many exes, or as she cleverly phrased it, "helping out a friend in need."

They were still the best friends a girl could have. Despite their total failure at commitment to the opposite sex, they were as loyal to her as a pair of trusty German shepherds.

It wasn't her friends' completely screwed up love lives that was bothering her; it was the fact that they had no idea what love felt like. Trying to figure out what kinds of feelings she actually had towards Jack, she needed someone who had been in love before. She couldn't ask her dad, because the heartache of her mom leaving would make him unsure about his love for her and most likely protective about _Elisa's_ life and the men in it. He really had loved Jessica, and the broken heart wasn't even close to being healed. If she started spilling her guts about some boy, he might start spilling his guts about her mom. Elisa loved him, but seeing her father cry was the acoustic in the hard rock rhythm. It would have ruined the idealistic thought that the father was stronger than the daughter both emotionally and physically. It wasn't just that, but the only thing keeping her from breaking down again was his strength.

Who was she supposed to trust with her problem? A person who was sure to ruin everything or people who didn't have a clue? The irony was that the only person who seemed to know what he was talking about was the one person she couldn't bear talking about it to: Jack.

Thinking about her mom had given her an idea, like a spark catching flame. Jack had a tattoo on his right forearm that said "Spared." He said he'd gotten it because of his mother and how he had been _spared_ his fate by Evelyn. What that fate was, she'd never learned, but it had to be horrible, just telling by the look in his eyes when he had explained that much. His mother had such a huge impact on his life. Well, so had Elisa's mother. She'd led her right into Jackie's arms.

_Elisa curled up on the sunken couch, holding the remote lazily between her fingers. She'd brought her knees up to her chest to give her chin something to rest on. A bag of Doritos rested between her and Jack on the couch cushion. They'd only picked at them every other minute while they watched Jimmy Kimmel on the tube. The members of a relatively new band named Nickelback had been on before Julia Roberts, and Jason had been pissed that some scratchy-voiced duchebags had made fifty grand on their last concert. He'd stormed out of the room, complaining loudly that their band could kick Nickelback's ass any day of the week._

_They'd seen the others head upstairs in similar ways. El was just too stubborn to change the channel and too much of a control freak to pass over the remote. She didn't really want to see some famous actress tell her life story, but sometimes she was just inflexible. She guessed the others were drinking themselves under the table upstairs. That was the sacrifice of her stubbornness—they'd kidnapped the beer. She didn't mind as much when Jack had offered to share his Miller Lite. The only reason Jack was still downstairs with her was because Derek's mom wouldn't let anyone smoke on the first floor._

_He had a unique kind of careless façade when he let his cigarette hang from his mouth lazily, and she couldn't help herself from staring at him. When he noticed, her eyes snapped back to Julia Roberts's smiling face. He laughed a little, the cigarette moving up and down on his lips._

"_What's wrong, El?" he asked, smirking._

"_Nothin'."_

_He looked at her for a minute more before taking the cigarette out of his mouth and holding it out to her. Elisa looked at it longingly, but shifted away. He didn't press her, but fell back into the cushions and spread out the way guys do._

_She didn't know what brought it on—the commercial of the little girl playing with her mother in the backyard, knowing that tomorrow Elisa's father planned to rid the house of her mom's old stuff, or just the simple sense of loneliness—but tears started to fill her eyes. She hadn't realized it until it was too late to wipe them away, because Jack had seen them. He leaned towards her and, expectant, gently repeated his earlier question. She wiped her sleeve across her eyes to clear away the offending trail of tears, but she didn't answer him._

_After a moment of hesitation, Jack softly grabbed her shoulders and brought her into a hug. For the time she was there, Elisa cherished the warmth of his body, the feel of his breath on the top of her head. She forgot the reason she was in his arms, that she'd been crying. She forgot everything. Her eyes closed and she almost fell asleep, but one slight movement of Jack's leg made her eyes pop open and she pushed away from him, crushing the Doritos bag beneath her. She realized what kind of movement had startled her and instantly regretted pushing away. Jack probably thought that she was being a prude or some shit, but she hadn't even interpreted it like that. _

_Glancing up at him, she became aware that the tears had dried on her face. She must have been in his arms for a while, and she felt bad Jackie had had to hold her like that so long. It must have been really awkward for him, since he wasn't used to seeing people cry._

_It took several drawn-out moments for her to study his expression. When he should have had that insulted scowl painted on his face, he looked shaken, almost anxious. It felt like a lifetime before he moved his head down to catch her lips with his._

Nope. Definitely hadn't been awkward.

Elisa's mouth slowly curved into a smile, but it easily fell upside-down. Spotting Layla doodling on the side of her Psychology notebook, she picked the pencil out of her hand and wrote "Deserted" between the elaborate wings and the lousy wire sketch. She sat back against her bed, tossing the pencil into Layla's lap. Both her friends took long looks at the piece of paper, then at Elisa. No one said anything for a long time.

- - -

Elisa moved into the sitting room where her father sat on the couch, a somber expression on his face. She crouched down to sit on the side of the coffee table, facing him. His hollow stare grazed past her, through her, as if she were invisible.

"Hey," she said softly, trying to smile; it was more difficult than she'd realized. "Row and Layla are gone. I thought I'd heat up some pasta or something. You okay with that?" She paused, looking into his eyes for any hint of emotion. He just nodded slowly in her direction.

He only held this expression once a week. By now it was like routine. She always invited her friend over on the nights she came home to complete silence. Her father was usually so full of life and energy; he got home from work and picked up the phone, dialing the number of the first person he spotted on the makeshift address book that hung from the tack-board in the kitchen. And his voice was always so animated. It had a levity to it that made him seem like one of those excessively happy Kindergarten teachers.

On a normal Thursday night, he would pick her up off the table, swing her over his shoulder, and plop her down on a kitchen chair to serve her a good, home-cooked meal. Today she got some lukewarm leftovers from a TV dinner.

When these days came around, Elisa stayed upstairs while her father silently grieved about how shitty life was, how deep in the hole they were, and how his heart was still broken. She called it the Night of Reality, because it felt like every other day had a pretty silk sheet that covered the problems in life.

They'd always led a shitty existence and they'd always been in debt, but he'd only started this solemn habit when Jessica had left. It always came back to that one event that had ruined their content lives.

The reason she had left, if it wasn't obvious, was because she hadn't gotten everything she thought she'd get out of marrying a businessman. So one day, Elisa had come home to see a taxicab outside the house, her mom throwing suitcases into the trunk. Elisa's heart hadn't let her head think straight.

"_I'm just going away for a couple of days, okay, baby?" she said, kissing her on the cheek and giving her a fierce hug. "I love you."_

She'd gotten into the cab and once it rolled away from the curb, she hadn't looked back. Elisa had stood there, trying to think of ways to persuade her to stay. Now she was glad nothing had come to mind. Why would she want a mother who didn't even love her enough to stick through the hard times, who didn't even love her husband enough to say good-bye?

That night, after she'd broken the news to her father, she'd tried to ignore the sobs she'd heard coming from his room. There was no way to muffle them. Pillows covered her ears, blankets draped over her head, but to no avail. That was the first and only time in her seventeen years that she had heard her father cry. His attitude after that night changed only slightly, but she could see the difference in him as clearly as a cracked piece of glass.

Elisa hadn't grieved. She'd decided that she wouldn't. What was the point of crying when the person you wanted to hear you was hundreds of miles away?

She looked at her father for half a minute more before she got up off the table and circled around the couch to get into the kitchen. She took out a plastic container from the refrigerator and set it on the counter. Several moments of rummaging through a drawer finally produced a suitable spoon which she used to scoop the pasta onto a plate. She set it in the microwave and pushed a couple of buttons. The moment the ancient machine began its deafening hum and rattle, Elisa pushed her back against the counter, slid down to the floor, and started to sob.

- - -

Like most tattoo parlors for wanna-be badass hustlers and third-class rockers, the name of this one was_ Chuck's_. Something in the name reminded Elisa of an old television show about babies, so the attempt to instill intimidation by masculinity was lost to the picture of toddlers in diapers.

One of Terry's uncles owned the place, just a rundown building he leased off St. Aubin Street next to the barber shop. It must have been some kind of a side business because if he was living off profits from body art and piercings—as well as getting held up once a month—he was either rich or nuts. Possibly both. St. Aubin was one of the worst streets in Detroit for robberies and muggings. That was the main reason Elisa had Jack come with, but she would never admit it. How businesses on that street managed to soldier on was a collective mystery.

When they walked into the shop, a bell rang over their heads and a huge black man came in from the back. Six feet of rigid muscle stared down at Elisa as if she were a mile away. She planned to be that far when she was done running, but the moment she took a step back to sprint out the door, Jack caught her shoulder and pulled her forward with him.

"The tattoos are this way, El," said Jack, amusement lacing his tone.

Jack gave a lazy smile to the beast of a man, uttering a blithe, "Hey Kong," and moving into the back, girl in tow.

"His name is Kong?" she asked, trying to resist the urge to turn around and stare.

"We just call him that to mess with him," Jack said, pulling her sleeve at the wrist. She'd worn a sweatshirt because she thought she'd fit in better with the crowd that loitered around the shop if she were wearing something rocker-oriented. Across the front was a large pair of torn and disfigured wings with the words _Lucifer's Fall_ scribbled over them, a logo which turned out to be a hell of a lot better than the band itself. She bought it for the design, not for promotional purposes, but that hadn't stopped the guys from raving to her about how she never endorsed their band.

_The Spares_, which had originated out of boredom, a new guitar, and a six pack of _Kalians_, was made up of Derek, Max, Jason, and Jack. Derek played the drums, Max was on base, and Jason was backup guitarist. Jack was lead guitarist and vocalist, but they sometimes switched off on that role. It wasn't the greatest composition in the world. They had a punk attitude about their music, but at least they actually wrote their own songs instead of performing grossly overplayed imitation attempts. Compared to the new heavy metal artists that had spurted up out of nowhere, they were nice to listen to, but they had nothing on Incubus or HIM. It was unfortunate that she didn't really enjoy the music they wrote, but it just wasn't her style. She would have liked to go to all their gigs and stand there like a groupie, giggling fiercely and praising them even if they'd sucked. What kind of friend would she be if she lied to them all the time?

Jack led Elisa into the back through the narrow hallway, which was decorated with torn wallpaper and black and white photographs displaying men the size of Kong and women that resembled Row, only slightly taller and bigger around the chest. Previous customers, apparently, seeing as they all had one form or body art or another. For a moment, she stopped to admire a particularly small picture that displayed the ripped arm of a man with a flaming heart tattooed across the muscle. It was in dedication to his mother. She wondered if that was Jack's arm, because she knew he had one of those.

Before she was done looking through the pictures, Jack grabbed her arm and gently pulled her into the room at the end of the hall. She smirked at the force he exerted, but she didn't mention what momentous occasion it had so suddenly reminded her of because she'd caught sight of the back wall of the room and the semi-automatic pistols it held. She had the urge to step back and sprint for the door, but Jack was holding onto her forearm tightly now and pushing her in the opposite direction.

The room looked like a fish hatchery, only with needles and ammunition instead of nets and salmon eggs. The lights on the ceiling shown down on the floor as if it had a yellow pigment to them, so it made the area around it almost eerie. It was spacious enough, and had a few doors within three feet of each other on either side of the room. The hallway might have been cramped, but the shop itself was comfortably large. She'd caught a whiff of smoke from outside the door, which she had expected to smell in a place like this, but the room was entirely fogged up with Excess of Cigarette. She didn't mind, it was just hard to see through the cancer clouds.

When she looked back at Jack, a small smirk played on his face as he inhaled the fumes like a memorable drug. She saw his hand twitch next to his jacket pocket, ready to pull out his pack of smokes and slide one between his teeth. Once he realized what he was about to do, he looked at Elisa, and seeing her staring expectantly made him shake out of his reverie.

"Gotta get to the big man's office before anything else," Jack said, his fingers gliding from her forearm to her hand in a gesture of assurance. Assurance for what, she wasn't sure, but the awareness of his hand warming hers was enough familiarity to satisfy her and compose the apprehension. She just hoped to God this 'big man' wasn't proportional to the gorilla-sized employee he had working up front.

Jack knocked loudly on the door labeled "Office," then stepped back until he heard the "What the fuck you want?" from the other side. Despite the composure Elisa had always prized herself on, she hung back in the room until Jack came back out, giving her a confused and amused half-smile.

"You comin' or what?" he said, sliding his hand under her hair and rubbing her neck. "Loosen up. I'm here all the time."

After a small breath and a smile, she strutted into the office, Jack tailing her, and stopped in the middle of the room. Staring at her with discriminatory eyes beneath horn-rimmed glasses was Terry's Uncle Steele. She'd met him at a family reunion a month ago, which Row had been invited to by Terry and which Row had forced Elisa to attend. It was almost schizo the way his attitude changed from crude business guy into lovable family man.

"You gotta be fucking with me!" said Steele with the same mockery he'd used on Terry once he'd seen him with Rosella and her. "Jack, _this _your girl? The one you were telling me about?"

Jack cocked an eyebrow in Elisa's direction and replied, "Yeah, this is her."

Steele stood up from his desk and headed towards them, giving Elisa a hard pat on the shoulder, one which nearly made her knees buckle. "This ain't cho girl," he said decidedly. "Can't be. She much too innocent to be fuckin' 'round with ya'll. 'Specially to be fuckin' you, ya little punk." Jack looked bewildered, but about _what_ specifically was unknown. Elisa's cheeks had flushed instantly at the thought of Jack describing their sex life to _Uncle Steele_. Hopefully it had just been implied. "C'mere, girl, give me some love."

Elisa smiled and stepped into his open arms, but when she saw Jack's face she confirmed, "We've met before."

"Figured that much," he said.

Steele moved across the office and threw his glasses on the desk. He nodded back towards them, asking Jack, "She know the drill?"

"There's a drill?" Elisa said, a little panic-stricken. What the hell was a drill used for? Weren't the needles poking into your skin at a thousand miles a minute enough pain to deal with?

"No, El," Jack said, unable to hold back his laughter. "Not drill like screwin' shit, drill like the process."

"Don't be talkin' dirty in my office," said Steele, opening a drawer in his desk to pull out some weird-ass machine looking thing that must have been a tattoo gun. "You take that shit outside."

"Yeah, all right, man," Jack muttered absently.

Steele led them out of his office to the room directly across, flipping on the light switch and hauling a cardboard box full of God knew what out of the room. The seat was nice-quality leather and tipped back by a lever on the floor. Once he'd asked her where she wanted the tattoo, he told her she would have to lay down on the chair. She suddenly realized how awkward it had probably been for Layla to get that tramp stamp, laying down on the chair like she was humping it. But then again, it was Layla.

"How 'bout you, Jack? You plannin' on gettin' another one today?"

Jack practically got a tattoo every time he went to _Chuck's_. Most of the time it was on a whim, so even he didn't know if he was coming back with something else painted across his skin. It must've pissed Evelyn off not knowing what that ink would form, or more importantly where it would be, on her youngest.

"Naw," he said, smirking. "I was thinking of getting something on my forearm, but I won't steal El's thunder."

"How chivalrous," Elisa said, rolling her eyes a little.

After taking off her hoodie and handing it to Jack, who tossed it on the floor, sliding her shirt up to her armpits, and lying down on the flat seat, Steele pushed Jack out of the way and kneeled down next to her. Jack moved to her other side, playing with a strand of her hair that had fallen out of the messy ponytail she'd put it in.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Steele asked, holding up the tattoo gun almost in a threatening way.

"Do you ask all the guys that, too?" she asked after a moment of irritated staring.

"'Course I do," he said, grunting. "Removin' these fuckers is a pain in the ass. And I only got dermabrasion, and _that_ shit hurts like nobody's fuckin' business."

He lowered the gun, pulling the skin around her hip taut. She grabbed for Jack's hand, catching his jacket pocket instead. Feeling the circular form of a bracelet lodged in it, she glanced up at him slowly, giving him a cold, cynical look. Jack noticed the change in expression, but licked his lips in a dismissive way before he slid his hand into hers. It only took her a few seconds to nearly crush his knuckles to powder while the needles started moving into her skin.

She popped one eyelid open enough to see him cringing away the sting just as she was. He offered her a smile and said, "Well, we're gonna be here for awhile. You can't keep up the acidic attitude that long."

"Watch me," she said sharply, giving his hand a good wring and smirking when he had to bend into the pain.


	6. Make Believe Serenity

**A/N:** This is called a transition chapter. I needed a prelude into the next chapter for you to understand what is going on. If I didn't, I'd just end up confusing you all. The end is just fluff, I know, but there's a little symbolism stuck in there too, and some foreshadowing if you can catch it. This is pretty much the last pointless chapter, I promise. Every chapter following this is extremely important to the plot, so prepare because you actually have to read the next few chapters, haha. Hope you enjoy the fluffy, marshmallowy goodness!

Also, thanks greatly to my beta, Sarah, and I apologize profusely for how long it took me to write this chapter. A huge thanks to everyone who's stuck with me this far!

**Disclaimer:** I have brothers. Two of them, not four.

* * *

**Can't Turn Back Time**

_Make-Believe Serenity_

"Jack!"

He pivoted on his skates, holding his hockey stick loosely in his right hand and smiling once he'd spotted Elisa on the opposite edge of the rink. He was about to yell something back to her when his back was slammed into the fence. His arm had twisted in the wrong direction, painfully wedged between his body and the wall, and he'd dropped his stick.

"The fuck you doin', man?" He heard Angel's antagonizing voice above him and suddenly realized he was on the ground. "I didn't come to a pick-up game to pay no hustlers. Getch yo ass off the ice."

Jack shook the rime shavings out of his hair and face, then grabbed for the fence behind him and lifted himself up. As he skated by it, he swept up the stick with an outstretched hand and followed the puck to the other end of the ice rink.

He looked around for a while until his eyes settled on the east corner of the rink, focusing on Elisa. Mouthing an elongated "sorry," she gave him her cutest and most sincere apologetic face. He skated on, replying with a shrug and a flippant smirk, to catch up with the rest of the players and the puck.

It was almost a half an hour later—thirty minutes of bruising, sweating, violent swearing, and fighting over plays—that Jack met her in the parking lot. She was leaning up against Bobby's car with her arms folded across her chest, irritated. Her mouth formed a pout that matched the scowl her eyebrows had successfully shaped.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, setting his stick against the car and leaning next to her. He thought about kissing her on the cheek, but the way she looked had him re-affirming his idea of what he could and couldn't do to her. When she didn't answer, he realized the scowl wasn't aimed in his direction, but at a group of Mexicans across the lot.

It was Lorenzo, a notorious drug dealer working out of his basement, and some of his cronies that took the blame for his dirty work. They were standing outside the rink by the bushes that covered a fourth of the rundown bleachers, probably waiting around after a sale. They were laughing like jackasses who'd just mugged a seven-year-old on Halloween.

"They bothering you?" Jack asked, his eyes shifting from the group to his girl.

Elisa looked up as if she hadn't realized he'd been there for the past minute. "No. They _were_ bothering me. Now they're just pissing me off."

Compulsively, Jack's hand clenched into a fist. "What were they doing?" he said, masking his rising temper with protective interest.

"Oh, you know," she evaded sourly. "Cat-calling, engine-revving, all the shit that makes a girl feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But I swear, if one more guy mistakes me for his mother, I'm gonna kick him in the nuts so hard he'll_ know_ I don't want grandkids."

"They're potheads. You gotta get 'em to realize they're idiots or they'll never leave you alone. 'Cuz the scowling thing is only telling them they're pissing you off."

His eyes shifted, taking in her expression of consideration while she thought about what he'd said and formulated a plan. He didn't let her finish, though, because he had a grand scheme in mind already, and he figured she would catch onto it quickly without the need for any prompting.

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, bringing her into him and pressing them both against the hood of the car, but he wouldn't kiss her. He acted on just about every aspect of foreplay he could think of up to first base before she bit down on his ear, sliding her teeth against the lobe. While she breathed hot air into the shell of his ear, he didn't notice that the hand that wasn't holding the back of his neck steady was flicking off Lorenzo's crew.

He kept his eyes open long enough to see their leers fading into livid glowers. It was almost amusing how easy it had been to get on their nerves. They started to walk into the parking lot in some kind of useless attempt at intimidation. Their neck tattoos and black wife beaters probably couldn't produce the same amount of fear as they would on an out-of-towner. Among other things, Detroit as a whole was immune to threatening appearances, because they thought about it sensibly; even the smallest little fucker can pull a trigger, and that's really all it takes.

"_¡Oye, chicos!"_ said Elisa in her dramatized Spanish accent, turning around in Jack's arms with a sneer. "_¿Los hace creen que soy un idiota? Vete al infierno, chilitos._"

Jack didn't understand what the fuck she'd just said, but just by the way she said it he could tell it was bad. He couldn't witness the thugs' reaction because Elisa's head was mostly in the way, but he heard one of them yell, _"¡Chingate, puta!_ Put a muzzle on that bitch."

Beneath his hands, Jack felt Elisa begin to pull forward, but he had her arms locked under his in a matter of seconds. He pushed her back against the car and moved towards them himself. He didn't have shit to defend himself with and he was sure the moment he got close enough they would all be pulling out knives. It hadn't hit him until he was twelve feet away that he was going up, unarmed, five against one.

Apparently sensibility really wasn't a Detroit-raised quality.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Bobby's voice trailed through the parking lot like a ricocheting rocket. "We got a problem here?"

They all stopped dead in their tracks. Elisa, who had followed Jack in order to pull him back, stopped, too. The rest of the Mauler's team had slid off the ice and now flanked Bobby in a menacing, if not ominous, way. Angel and Jerry were on either side while Jackson and Green hung back behind the three.

"'Cuz if ya'll got a problem," said Angel, sending the pusher a scathing glare, "we'll be happy to solve it for you."

Lorenzo pulled his hand out of his pocket where he'd reached for his switchblade. The crew was dismantled without a single punch, even though Jack could tell Bobby was just itching for some physical contact with their faces. The pusher stayed behind longer than the others to give Jack a hostile stare and mutter something about his _piruja _and how he could_ chinga tú madre_.

Jack almost leapt on the bastard, but he wasn't fast enough to evade the firm grip that Elisa had on his arm. In the time it took the youngest Mercer to realize he was being held back, Lorenzo had run across the parking lot, followed closely by Bobby and Angel who were simultaneously yelling, "Sonuvabitch!"

Jerry clasped a hand on the back of Jack's head and shook his own, saying, "Don't worry 'bout it." Then he looked up and shouted, "Shit, man. Forget about it, Bobby!" He looked back down at Jack, whose chest Elisa had her arm wrapped around tightly, and asked, "You alright, Jack?" After he nodded his head in response, still gritting his teeth, Jerry tried to explain. "See, now, if we gonna go after every shithead like that, there'd be no one left in Detroit. Ya'll know that. Ya'll just not thinkin' right."

Elisa picked up her head, her firm stare demanding acceptance, or at least some understanding. "He would've killed you."

Jack didn't say anything in return, just transferred his gaze to his two older brothers walking back, Angel tucking his pistol into the waist of his jeans while Bobby's was still in hand at his side.

He smirked as he reached them, retelling the story even though they'd all witnessed it. "That little motherfucker can run fast, man. Sprinted outta here in two seconds flat when he saw my baby," he said, holding up his pistol and kissing the slide.

They were walking back to the car when Jerry asked, "Now why in the hell did all that start up?"

Elisa was about to open her mouth, but Jack beat her to it. It was probably for the best, because she couldn't have come up with an elaborate enough excuse to make it believable. At least Jack had the sense to say a simple, "They were bein' dicks."

Jack shoved his hockey gear into the back of Bobby's car and told his brothers he would see them at home in an hour. He had made plans with Max to explain the chords of a new song he'd thought of and Elisa had asked to come along. It was progress, he had to give her props, but he was now thinking it wasn't such a good idea. If she could start this much trouble in the parking lot before they even met up, what would the walk to Max's be like?

- - -

"So, where'd you learn Spanish like that?" Jack asked once they'd reached the broken lamppost on the corner of Crane and Treadway Plaza. What he really wanted to ask was what she'd said, but that question was up next.

Elisa smirked, grabbing a hold of the broken post and swinging around it aptly, careful to avoid the chipped paint and metal shards on its right side where an old Chevy had sidelined it a year and a half ago. "Sofi taught me a few basic insults," she replied, looking pleased with herself. "And some not-so-basic."

"I didn't think you liked Sofi," said Jack accusingly, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but _she_ doesn't know that," she countered, sending him a wink. "Besides, she's like my support group. You can't date a Mercer and not have someone to talk to who's been through it."

"You have a support group?"

"Mercers' Anonymous. There's a meeting this Thursday. Next week's the annual Bingo tournament."

"Sounds like a blast," he said, lacing his fingers through hers as they walked down the sidewalk.

"Like you wouldn't believe. We have quite a turnout. You should come. See some old girlfriends, win a loofah. There're good awkward silences to be had."

Jack tried to hide his grin. "So if you've got a support group, does that mean you're addicted to me?"

"It could just mean you're a dick," said Elisa, pulling down on his hand so she could reach his cheek to give it a quick kiss. He was, after all, a head taller than her.

After a riveting discussion concerning the man mowing his lawn across the street and how he needed to put a shirt on, Jack subtly asked, "So, are you gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Why Lorenzo was about to kill me. What'd you say to them?"

"Oh. Right." She paused, squinting her eyes in concentration in that cute little way she did when she wanted to tell you something but didn't know how. "Well, I told them to go to hell."

Something in her voice suggested there was more, but he didn't want to push her. "Okay…" Who the fuck was he kidding? "What else?" he added, almost eagerly.

"Calm down, Captain Probe," she said, swinging their clasped hands back and forth, amused by the double-meaning. "I told them they had small cocks."

There were creases in the edges of Jack's eyes and his mouth curled up into a smirk. "You said that, huh?" he asked, almost laughing.

"Yep," Elisa said, smiling slightly. He could tell she was embarrassed, but she did a great job hiding it.

"So what did they say back?"

"I just know that _chingate_ means 'fuck'."

"I figured."

"And they also called me a whore."

"Not too far off." Elisa turned, looking like she had when Derek had smacked her in the ass with a kitchen towel, and punched him on the side of his chest, on the pectoral so it would hurt more. It wasn't too painful, but he grunted and held his hand up to his chest to shield himself from another hit. "What're you trying to do?"

Jack tugged on the hand that was holding his and she fell into him, off-balance. He grabbed her sides and proceeded to tickle her mercilessly. She laughed until he let go of her; almost instantly her smile flipped and she regarded him with a vengeful glare from the corner of her eye. They walked on in silence, Jack grinning until they reached Max's.

"Jerk," she mumbled as he opened the fence gate for her.

"You're welcome."


	7. The Breaking Point

**A/N:** I didn't re-read this chapter to make sure that there aren't any mistakes, so bear with me here, because I wanted to get it out. FINALLY. I know the people who had been reading this fic really wanted me to update, and I let you down for a long time, and I felt really bad about it. So let me make it up to you by updating now with a (what I think it) great and excellently-titled chapter! Please enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I own Four Brothers. _... _No. _Not_ really.

* * *

**Can't Turn Back Time  
**_The Breaking Point_

After spending two minutes in the Doutry's entryway, Elisa had deduced that Max's mom was not only a neurotic germaphobe, but also a crazy person. They were required to take off their shoes the moment they stepped through the door so that none of the snow and mud caked onto the bottoms would stick to her pristine carpets. Unlacing her shoes, Elisa caught a quick glimpse of Jack walking up the stairs in his socks. It was funny; she'd never noticed how cute he was in his over-sized hand-me-downs until now when the socks he wore, which had previously belonged to Angel, hung over his toes.

Elisa was about to grasp the railing next to the stairs when she was nearly tackled to the ground. She didn't know what planet they were on that allowed Mrs. Doutry to fly across the room to the staircase within the three seconds it took for Elisa to move her hand. Apparently the wooden railing had just been varnished and was not to be touched. Once she decided that Max's mom was The Human Dustpan, the superhero dedicated to keeping her house clean at any cost, she swiftly moved up the stairs.

Compared to the perfection of the rest of the house, Max's room could be described as the bombsite of an atomic war. Clothes covered the entirety of the floor and hung over lampshades and open dresser drawers. It was not a pretty site, nor was it an easy task to reach the boy's bed. Her attempt at climbing the mountains of dirty, wrinkled clothes earned her a few laughs from the peanut gallery—consisting of Max, Jack and their guitars, sitting comfortably on the futon.

Elisa had no way of amusing herself while the guys practiced until the Doutry's miniature schnauzer stumbled clumsily into the room. She played with him for the remainder of the time they spent there. He was just a puppy, so he would nip at her fingers every time she patted the bedspread next to him and he'd pounce on her hand whenever he got the chance. She only got bit once, and she had to make a mental note that puppy teeth were fucking sharp.

They left the house at quarter to five, even though Max wasn't completely satisfied that he'd learned the whole song. Elisa told him to suck it up because she was bored and hungry and wanted to go home. Jack just laughed and told him he'd see him at practice on Tuesday.

"So why did you even bother teaching him the song today when you're gonna see him on Tuesday?" Elisa asked, somewhat peeved that she'd spent an hour there for nothing.

Jack shrugged, irking her a bit more. "Just something to do."

"Maybe for _you_," she mumbled.

She was supposed to be supportive of this whole band thing. Her boyfriend was in a band, and she just had to deal with the fact that his entire world revolved around that.

"So what's for dinner?"

Jack looked at her from the side. "I take it you're staying over?"

"Is that even a question?" she asked. "Dad's cooking tastes like shit next to Evelyn's."

"If you come over, you're probably gonna have to help cook, because we sure as shit don't."

"I just can't catch a break," Elisa said sarcastically. It was either cooking for two or cooking for six; she took her pick.

She had been thinking about the lyrics Jack had been teaching Max while they played the guitar, and they were bothering her. Jack told her he'd wrote the song off the top of his head, so he was the only one who would know what they were about.

"So what exactly does that last line mean?"

"What?" Jack asked casually, a little distracted by the couple walking down the opposite side of the street. They were sharing a cigarette, and the guy had his arm around her waist, gripping her muffin-top. He may have been preoccupied by the cigarette, since he was trying to cut back, or the fact that the couple was so close and he was...well, yeah.

"The last line of the chorus of your song," she said simply, taking a step towards him and tugging on his shirt lightly. He noticed and moved next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder.

"It's just something I was thinking about the night I went over to your house—" He stopped the sentence too quickly for Elisa to believe it was the end, and it pissed her off that he was avoiding her about keeping the bracelet. She caught him several times in the last week with it on him. If he was going to return it, he should've done it by now.

"For the bracelet," she said, a hint of frustration lining her vocals. "That you were going to return."

"I will," he said guiltily, caught in a lie. She didn't think he was ever really going to let it go. Honestly, she didn't know _how_ he would bring it back to the shop without getting found out, but if he had a plan, she was more than happy for him to use it.

"Will you?" she asked, looking up at him skeptically.

"I switched it out with a fake. No one's even noticed it's gone."

"And how long before someone does?"

After a moment, he sighed and his hand moved from her shoulder to her hip. She nearly shrieked in pain at his touch and quickly moved away. Her tattoo was still healing and it hurt like hell's fire every time something rubbed against it. He took at step away from her, and they scowled at each other. Elisa for being too close, and Jack for not being close enough.

- - -

Evelyn was pulling in the driveway as the couple made their way up the walkway. When she opened the car door with a bag of groceries in each arm, they both took one so she wouldn't be burdened while trying to get out her house keys.

"Oh, thank you," she said as the weight was lifted out of her arms. "Are you staying for dinner, then, Elisa?"

She kicked herself mentally for having walked with her boyfriend all the way back to his place, but it was on the way. What was she supposed to have done? Stand on the other side of the street? She smiled, hopefully convincingly, and told Evelyn she'd promised Jack she would.

They walked into the house together, the two eighteen-year-olds pushing past each other through the door like five-year-olds. Evelyn seemingly didn't notice their behavior, and it ceased the moment they were indoors. Jack took off for the living room after handing his mother back the bag and the two women headed for kitchen.

"You know, Evey, it's practically archaic," said El, annoyed.

"What's that?"

"The way these guys don't do a _single_ thing in this house," she explained loudly, sending an angry glance into the living room, where Jack was strumming his guitar, apparently oblivious to their conversation.

She gave up on him and went to pack the lunch meat in the fridge. The moment her back was turned, Jack looked up to glare. This happened several more times, each time missing each other by a split second. Elisa wasn't really paying any attention to the food, so she almost sliced her thumb off while cutting up the carrots. Evelyn was getting a little suspicious of her behavior, but didn't question it.

Twenty minutes later, a platter of breaded chicken breasts and a bowl of steaming carrots were on the table, empty dishes and silverware surrounding them. Evelyn called up the stairs where Jack and Bobby had migrated.

Bobby was the first to immerge, jumping down the stairs and making the pictures on the wall shake slightly in the aftermath of the earthquake. He sauntered into the kitchen, kissing Evelyn on the cheek before he sat down at the table across from Elisa. He grabbed the bowl of carrots from the center and dumped a spoon-full onto his plate.

"What's goin' on, El?" he said, forking a whole chicken breast and adding that to his collection. "How was your afternoon session with that shitty noise Cracker Jack calls music?"

"It was great," she said tonelessly, not caring enough to give an honest answer. It was Bobby, after all. He wouldn't give a fuck about her problems. In fact, he might ridicule her for them, and it wasn't worth getting mad at him over this. "Mrs. Doutry's a real party animal."

"That stuck-up Martha Stuart bitch? She's fuckin' crazy," he said carelessly. Lucky for Bobby, Evelyn was in the other room. That would've earned him one hell of a smack to the head.

"How would you know?" Elisa asked, genuinely interested.

"You don't wanna know how I know half the people in this town, El. Trust me." He winked and then starting shoveling food into his big mouth.

Evelyn came out of the laundry room with a sour expression, asking, "Where's Jackie?" Without a moment's hesitation, Bobby yelled, "Hey, Fairy, it's dinner time! Get your ass down here!"

"Shut the hell up, Bobby," Elisa said, annoyed, scraping the fork that she was playing with across her empty plate. She wasn't really upset with the teasing, but at the moment she just didn't want to hear it. If she had had ear plugs, she wouldn't've said anything.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but if you haven't noticed you're really not his type."

"He's not gay, Bobby," she said, looking up at him with an expression as empty as her plate. "If he was, he'd be more like you."

The oldest Mercer cracked a smirk. "You're gettin' pretty good at that."

"God knows I've been around here long enough for something to stick."

Bobby ignored her last and continued to plow the field with his teeth. A few moments later, Jack walked into the room doing poorly to hide his contempt. Thankfully, no one was in the mood to notice, but he had to go and ruin it by sitting next to Bobby.

Looking up from his plate as his brother pulled out the chair next to him, he leaned across the table and whispered, "Lovers' quarrel?"

Elisa shot him a glance that could have frozen fire. Bobby chuckled but didn't comment further.

"I'm going to skin that boy alive," Evelyn huffed as she walked into the room, taking her seat at the head of the table. "He's wasting all his leave time with that girlfriend. If he shows up when we've finished, he can heat up a hot dog, because I'm not serving him a thing. Oh, I forgot the potatoes."

As she stood up, the front door flew open and Angel walked in. He didn't bother taking off his coat or stamping the snow off his boots, because he was much too excited.

"Man, have I got some crazy shit to tell ya'll!" he practically shouted, even though his intended audience was only a few feet away. He pulled out the chair next to Elisa and sat down. She could tell from the look of him that he was about to use some elaborate hand gestures while he spoke, so she pushed her chair a little to the right to preempt the strike. "Detroit has been shitfaced while I've been gone, man. Some guy got his fuckin' brains splattered outside the apartment buildings down on Clinton, and two blocks away, my homeboys said they saw the popos chasing after this dumbass swinging a smokin' nine-mil in his hand while running. Last fuckin' week! Now where ya'll been that you didn't nobotwha—"

Angel's meaningless babble, which no one at the table was really listening to, suddenly became even more meaningless than before due to the bar of soap that Evelyn had shoved into his mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Angel," she said, completely unconcerned with Angel's choking and spitting, and held out the bowl in her hands to her son. "Want any potatoes, Bobby?"

"Sure, Ma. Thanks," he said, scooping some onto his plate. "How ya doin' there, Angel? Mouth clean yet?"

Angel glared at him and then down at the bar of soap he'd spit out on his empty plate. Elisa grabbed it and took it to the sink where she deposited the soap, wiped the plate with a cloth, and then set it back down in front of Angel. "Eat before you start talking again," she advised, "or your mom's going to get out the carvings knives."

After he had finished a piece of chicken, and Evelyn was satisfied, Angel started talking again, loudly.

"So when they brought in the body, the guy had two pounds of pot in his duffle bag, and there ain't no way this guy was a dealer. Fuckin' grade school teacher with four kids! The cops say they gonna be questionin' his family now, like they got some damn business goin' on. And they ain't got no proof! Fuckin' cops.

" Then my homeboy says he heard from some little dumbass punk that works for the Capri's that the Cadence Jewelry Store was robbed." At that word, both Jack and Elisa picked up their sulking heads. No one seemed to notice the change in their attentions. "Clean job, too, but small. Just one bracelet, but it was fuckin' expensive, man. This dude wasn't playin' around. But this guy must've been a crazy motherfucker, cuz Cadence runs with the Capri's. They're pissed, and probably out for fuckin' blood. I'd hate to be the guy they're after, man, cuz that little shit's a goner."

There was a moment of silence, and Elisa lowered her eyes, staring at her still-empty plate. _This isn't happening, this isn't happening_, she kept thinking over and over again in her head. She shut her eyes and put her hands under the table so that no one would see them shaking.

Angel was looking around the table, unnerved from the fact that no one had responded to anything he'd said.

"None of ya'll didn't do it, did you?"

Bobby finally glanced up at his brother, laughing a bit. "That's funny, Angel. Didn't you see my new bracelet? I think it brings out the color in my fuckin' eyes."

"That's it!" Evelyn said, getting up out of her seat and gathering up everyone's plates, whether they were finished or not. Two of the boys were complaining, and Evelyn was telling them it was their own faults for having such dirty mouths. But Jack and Elisa were sitting quietly at their places, and not able to hear a word more of what was said.


End file.
